


Tropey Klaine Advent 2015

by notarelationship (justpracticing)



Category: Glee
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Dalton Klaine, M/M, Nerd!Blaine, Skank!Kurt, Tags may not apply to every chapter, firefighter!Blaine, nightbird smut, reference to Kurt's mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5340491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justpracticing/pseuds/notarelationship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?</p><p>Most chapters rated G. Later chapters rated M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anniversary

Blaine bent his knees, skidding down the last corridor towards Kurt's room, giggling as he slammed into the wall to stop himself. It was the last one off the main corridor, and the floor was always especially slippery there since it didn't see as many feet during the day as the other halls.

The Senior Chefs club was putting out all of their afternoon appetizer samples in the common room, and he knew Kurt wouldn't be able to pass up the opportunity to make judgmental comments about the amount of cardamom in the samosas or the merits of using a pre-packaged season salt over one you mixed up in your own kitchen. Blaine grinned in anticipation of Kurt's scathing analysis as he knocked on the door.

"Kurt?" He called out, after there was no answer. Maybe he had heard and was already there. He knocked again. "Kurt are you in there?"

He heard shuffling before the door opened revealing a red-eyed, slightly disheveled Kurt Hummel.

Blaine swallowed, looking Kurt up and down. "Are you ok?"

Kurt shrugged. "Yeah. Sort of. Mostly." He moved out of the way as Blaine pushed gently past him. The room was dark but for a geranium scented candle lit in a jar on the desk.

Blaine tugged on Kurt's sleeve until they were both sitting on the edge of the bed. Blaine was never sure about touching Kurt, though he sometimes did it anyway. He liked touching. And they weren't anything to each other, well, they were friends, and sometimes Blaine wondered what it would be like to be more, to be Kurt's, to be able to really comfort him, to hold his hand without it being weird. Sometimes. But they weren't that.

"Did something happen?" Kurt shook his head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Kurt hiccuped a small sob and Blaine felt his chest contract. "It's, um, the anniversary," he stopped to breathe in. 

Blaine shook his head in a question. 

"Of when my mom, um, died."

Blaine sucked in a breath, putting his hand on Kurt's shoulder. When he didn't flinch he wrapped his arm around Kurt and hugged him. It was sideways, and awkward. It didn't matter.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you're not with your dad." Kurt shrugged.

"I talked to him, and he's coming to get me Friday early for the weekend." Kurt wriggled away from Blaine's arm so he could reach a tissue on the side table. "I don't know why I'm so emotional today. It's been years since I've cried about it. But I guess I was having a lot of feelings today." He shrugged again.

"You've had a difficult year, and a lot to deal with. It makes sense." Blaine put his hand back on Kurt's shoulder and squeezed. "Do you want me to go? Or stay? Anything. Whatever you need." Kurt looked at him finally, shadows from the candle reflecting off of his tear streaked face.

"Stay? That would be nice."

Blaine shook his head vigorously. "Yes, yes of course."

They shifted and resettled on the bed so their backs were against the wall and their feet hung over the side. Blaine's feet barely hung over the edge. 

"You're so short." Kurt snuffled a laugh.

"Oh! Not nice!" Blaine punched his shoulder gently. Once Kurt was still he slipped his arm through the crook of Kurt's elbow, resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. He hoped it was a comforting gesture. "Is this OK?" He felt Kurt nod across the top of his hair.

"Yes. Thank you." Kurt slipped his hand into Blaine's, holding it as the both looked at the flickering candle.

He snuggled closer. "Anytime."


	2. Broadway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine Advent Broadway prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

Kurt's in his first week of rehearsals for his very first Broadway show when it happens. The lead diva and her understudy get into a cat fight in their dressing room and Kurt, using his typically poor judgement in situations like these, steps in, is tripped by the understudy, and knocks over a collection of (prohibited by the theater management) candles, setting what is apparently very flammable pile of costume scraps on fire, bringing a wide assortment of firemen from several local fire stations to douse the backstage area in water while they chop through two non-load bearing walls to make sure they've got everything put out.

Luckily, the fire was contained to the one dressing room, and the actual fire damage to the theater was minimal. As usual, the water damage will take a bit longer to clean up.

Kurt is pacing the side stage area, wringing his hands in a panicky gesture, worried about how much trouble he's going to be in (they weren't even his candles!!) while the firemen clean up, when he sees him. He's taken his helmet off to talk to another fireman, and he's running one hand through short, dark, curly hair. Kurt double takes without realizing. He's gorgeous. Kurt is still watching them as the firemen group together and start to walk down the narrow side stairs, when the cute fireman turns his head, looks him right in the eye and winks, and then walks out behind his crew.

**

Kurt doesn't get fired and they don't cancel the show, but the diva understudy is being moved into the dressing room he already shares with three other members of the chorus. They can manage. Broadway is a lot less glamorous than they lead you to believe when you’re 9 years old.

Two weeks later the producer is buying them all drinks a the Royalton to celebrate moving back into their theater after the repairs pass inspection. They all settle into the long sofas that make up the main lounge and even though they’ve seen each other every day rehearsing in an empty office space so they don’t lose the time, they’re all buzzing and excited about getting back into the theater. Kurt is really excited. He’s going to be in his first Broadway show.

Kurt is on his way back from the men’s room when an attractive guy standing at the bar catches his eye, and, having recently decided that he was going to be more open to opportunities of this sort (so long as they don’t seem like serial killers or shop at the Gap), he smiles at the guy as he walks by. He’s surprised when the guy waves at him like they know each other, but he looks familiar and (for once) Kurt doesn’t want to be rude (he’s cute) so he detours toward the bar.

“Have we met?” Kurt asks.

The guy looks a little disappointed but recovers quickly and nods. “Start any backstage fires in the past couple of weeks?” The guy grins at him and it all comes back in a rush: the hot fireman. The hot fireman who winked at him, and who was just checking him out so thoroughly that Kurt’s notoriously unreliable gaydar is pinging off the meter. Kurt leans one hip against the bar.

“You’re a little short for a fireman.” Kurt flirts with him.

He swears to god the guy’s eyes literally twinkle as he flirts right back. “We prefer firefighter. And I meet the physical requirements.”

Kurt could swear he can see biceps flexing under the guy’s snug and clearly Brooks Brothers dinner jacket. In for a penny....

“Are you here alone?”

He shrugs. “I’m meeting a friend actually, but he’s going to be late.”

Kurt finds himself nodding, unable to stop looking at this guy’s face. His triangle eyebrows and his sparkling honey eyes and his pink mouth and damn it if Kurt’s voice doesn’t actually squeak when he manages to breathe out, “Just how special is this friend?”

The guy actually bites his lip before he answers. “Not that special. Can I, uh, can I buy you a drink?” He sticks out his hand. “My name’s Blaine.”

Kurt takes it, hoping his palm isn’t as sweaty as it feels right this minute. 

“Kurt.”


	3. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - Competition

“Go fish,” Kurt said. Blaine scowled at him and picked a card from the middle, frowning. “Do you have any twos?”  
Blaine scowled as he dropped two twos face up onto the pile of cards between them, then pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room.

“Two cards, Blaine. Two pieces of clothing.” Kurt waved the three twos he held in his hand at him before placing them neatly on the floor in front of him. Blaine shook his head and stood up, unzipping his jeans and shoving them down his legs and off without ceremony, leaving him in only his underwear. Kurt tried and failed not to giggle.

“You know, sweetheart, when I said let’s have a competition to see which one of us can get undressed faster, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Kurt snickered. “Are you complaining?”

Blaine didn’t answer. He just smirked and sat down across the pile of cards form Kurt. Only this time, instead of sitting cross-legged, he spread his legs into a wide V, with his arms extended behind him to prop him up. Kurt blinked and wet his lips, eyes roving over Blaine’s body from head to toe. 

Kurt tossed his cards aside and climbed over Blaine, kissing him hard. “Ok. You win.”


	4. Day 4 - Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine Advent - Day 4

Blaine looks up at the sign hanging across the wide doors leading into the Dalton dining room. 

“Career Day” is spelled out in big red block letters. He tries not to sweat, but tugs at his suddenly too tight collar, loosening his tie reflexively as he crosses the threshold. Everywhere he looks are tables with company names and career opportunities and plans for the future. And he knows he was supposed to fill out the questionnaire first, but he couldn’t get past the first question.

“I don’t understand why Dalton even has a career day.” 

Blaine looks and Kurt is standing next to him. When did Kurt get here? Kurt will help. He’ll make Blaine laugh and and touch his arm and Blaine will know what to do.

“Isn’t everybody here destined to be a real estate magnate or an international spy or the next Elon Musk?” Kurt tugs Blaine by the elbow. "Whatever. We’re just sophomores. Come on let’s get a table. I brought snacks.“ He smiles at Blaine and shakes a bag that might be filled with nuts or might be filled with rocks. Blaine can’t tell.

They sit down and Kurt pulls a bottle of water out of his bag and hands it to Blaine. "Are you ok?” he finally asks. “You look pale.”

Blaine nods and takes the questionnaire out of his bag, mumbling, “M'fine. Skipped breakfast.” Kurt doesn’t look convinced.

Blaine takes the cap off his pen and rereads the first question:

_“If you could chose anything to do or be, for the rest of your life, what would bring you the most personal happiness?”_


	5. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

“Blaine!”

Blaine pulled the pillow over his head. Today was Kurt’s day to get up and feed Lizzie before school. He was supposed to be able to sleep in.

“Blaine! You have to get out here!”

“Coming,” he mumbled, rolling of the bed and pulling a t-shirt on over his head before joining his husband in the kitchen. “I thought it was my turn to sleep in?” 

Kurt glared at him from under the table. “It is.”

“Kurt, why are you under the table?” Why was Kurt under the table?

“Hammy escaped Daddy!” Lizzie ran at him, and he scooped her up into his arms.

“Hammy escaped – what?” He looked at the empty hamster cage then at Kurt, crawling out from under the table. Kurt shook his head at Blaine. “Oh I’m sure he’ll be fine honey. Why don’t you let Papa take you to school and I’ll wait for Hammy to come out.”

Lizzie kissed Blaine on the cheek. “OK Daddy.” Blaine put her down and she ran to gather her little backpack and her jacket.

Kurt slipped his arm around Blaine’s waist, kissing him on the other cheek. “Pet shop opens at nine, sweetheart.”


	6. Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the first part here

Kurt is attractive and funny and has really nice hair and Blaine really wants to keep him interested long enough to get his number.

“So can I ask you what you’re working on, or is it one of Broadway’s many well guarded secrets?”

Even in the dim light of the bar he can see the pink tinge on Kurt’s cheeks, on the tips of his ears (and oh my god Blaine may have just fallen in love).

“It’s terrible. It’s a musical adaptation of ‘10 Things I Hate About You.” Kurt waves it away like it’s not important.

Blaine laughs, he can’t help it. “The movie? With Heath Ledger?”

Kurt’s eyes roll. “Yes, yes.” He’s laughing now too.

“But isn’t that-”

“The Taming of the Shrew?”

“But isn’t there already a musical of-”

“Yes, yes, 'Kiss Me Kate.’ And I can guarantee you the composer of this is no Cole Porter.” Kurt laughs and then shrugs. “But it’s my first Broadway role, even if it’s just in the chorus. So I’m excited anyway.”

Blaine lets himself touch Kurt’s knuckles, where his hand is resting on the bar, and he can feel Kurt’s breath stutter.

“You should be excited,” Blaine says. “It’s exciting.” Blaine is turning on his most charming grin. “Hey, if this is your first show, do I get to be your first fan?”

Kurt laughs, embarrassed again from the looks of it. “Maybe you should wait and see if you even like m-”

Blaine moves just a hair closer and interrupts. “Oh I definitely like you.” And neither one of them can avert their eyes for too long a moment.

But then Kurt sips his drink and softly says, “Well, you’ll have to get in line behind my dad, but sure.”

Kurt is biting his lip, and if they weren’t in one of the swankiest hotel bars in New York he’d be trying to kiss this guy right now.

Then someone calls Blaine’s name and the both jerk away like they’ve licked a live wire.

“Hi Blaine, Sorry I’m late.” It takes Blaine a minute to remember he was meeting someone here for dinner.

Blaine waves it off. “No problem. Wes Montgomery this is Kurt-” He doesn’t know Kurt’s last name.

“Hummel. Nice to meet you.” 

Wes smirks at Blaine, mercifully out of Kurt’s line of sight. “How do you two know each other?”

“Well, a couple of weeks ago I tried to burn down the Stephen Sondheim Theater, and Blaine and his friends managed to save the day,” Kurt answers, with a wink at Blaine.

Unfortunately before anyone can say anything more, the hostess comes over to escort Blaine and Wes to their table. Blaine panics when he sits down, practically whining. “Wes I didn’t get his number.”

“Do you want his number?” Wes is laughing at him.

Blaine looks over at the bar, but Kurt is gone. He scans the room and finds him back with his friends, and Blaine is trying to get Kurt to look at him with just the power of how badly he wants his phone number when the hostess places a folded card on the table near his plate.

“The gentleman from the bar asked me to give this to you, sir.”

Wes is still laughing when Blaine opens the card, which has written on it in tidy script:

Kurt Hummel - 917-555-1358.  
Call me if you’d like to see the previews.

But Blaine doesn’t care what Wes is doing because when he looks up, Kurt is smiling at him from across the room.


	7. Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

Kurt picked up the plate of fresh scones, balancing it on top of the two cups of coffee he had just made.

“What are today’s choices, honey?” He set the cups and plates on the coffee table in front of Blaine. Blaine settled back, flipping through the on-screen guide with the remote control.

“Well, ‘Die Hard’”

“I will not accept that as a Christmas movie.”

Blaine sighed, “OK, ‘Home Alone.’”

“Blaine, I want our married Christmas movie tradition to start out on a classic note.”

Blaine giggled. “How about ’Bad Santa.’”

Kurt just glared at him. “Ok, Ok, let’s see.” Blaine bit his lip, and Kurt had to resist the urge to climb on his husband and kiss him until he forgot what holiday they were celebrating. “I know what I’d like to watch.” He flashed a grin at Kurt, all teeth and wide eyes.

Kurt sighed. He knew where this was going. “’A Christmas Story?’” Blaine nodded, still grinning hopefully. Kurt tried to be annoyed, but he couldn’t be, really. He loved that movie as much as Blaine did. He sat next to Blaine and snuggled in.

“Merry Christmas Blaine.”


	8. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the first part here!

Kurt’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

Blaine: Operation Hammy II successful. 

Kurt: good. i don’t think i’m prepared to explain the inevitability of death to our 4 year old

Blaine: I hope we can put it off for a while. Will you be home for dinner?

Kurt: i should be home closer to 7. feed the little munchkin and i should be home for bath time and dinner with my gorgeous husband. or maybe bath time with my gorgeous husband?

Blaine: Great. I’ll let him know.

Kurt: :p

****

It was closer to 8 by the time Kurt pushed through the door of their apartment.

“Blaine? Lizzie! I’m home!”

He heard the squeak of the bathroom door come from the hallway.

“We’re in the bathtub Papa!”

Kurt dropped his bags on the floor by the door and hurried down the hall, stopping in the doorway of their tiny bathroom. Blaine was on his knees next to the tub splashing with their daughter. His t-shirt was soaked and stuck to his chest, and his curly hair was half wet and dripping down his face. “Wow,” Kurt purred.

Blaine turned his head to look at him, raising on expectant eyebrow. “Hi hon.” Lizzie splashed her tiny fists and water sprayed app over Blaine. Kurt didn’t even try to stifle his laugh. “Come on Lizzie-bear. Let’s get your teeth brushed and Papa can read you a bedtime story.”

“OK Daddy.” Lizzie grinned and stood in the tub, waiting for Blaine to wrap her up in a fluffy towel. Once she was all dry Blaine picked her up and handed her to Kurt. 

“Here Papa, why don’t you get Lizzie’s pj’s on and I’ll get you something to eat.”

Kurt leaned in and kissed him as he took their daughter. “You look amazing right now, by the way,” Kurt growled in his ear. Blaine just rolled his eyes and shut the bathroom door behind them as they made their way to Lizzie’s room.

“OH! Papa!” Lizzie clapped her hands together.

“What peanut?” Kurt bounced her on her bed, and she giggled at him.

“Daddy found Hammy!”

Kurt held up two different pairs of pajamas, waving them at her as they talked. “Oh he did, did he?" 

"He said he musta been hidin.” She pointed at the yellow pair with the feet.

“Ooh, good choice,” he said to her. “Yeah, I bet that was all. We need to make sure we always close Hammy’s cage so he can’t get out again, OK?”

“Yes, Papa, I know. Daddy told me." 

After Kurt finished getting Lizzie to bed, he stepped into the kitchen to find Blaine standing at the counter in nothing but his underwear, arranging a salad.

"Sorry I was late.” He nuzzled up behind him. “You’re almost naked.”

“Well, my clothes were all wet.” Blaine leaned back into him, and Kurt wrapped his arms around his husband’s shoulders. “And it’s OK, Lizzie and I had a good night.”

“What about our night? Are you tired? I am suddenly not that hungry.” Kurt turned Blaine around, pressing him to the counter and peppering kisses across his jaw, down his throat.

“I could maybe, mmm hmmm, be, uh convinced.” Kurt had one hand in Blaine’s underwear, palming his ass, and was about to lift him onto the counter, when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

“Ohmygodblaine!” He leapt back, pulling Blaine against him.

“Kurt, what?” But Kurt was pointing at the counter. Where there was a hamster eating the salad Blaine had just prepared. “Is that-”

“Hammy?” Kurt took a step closer. It was the hamster that had disappeared that morning, “Well I’m sure I’ll skip the salad now.”

Blaine chuckled and picked up the runaway hamster, opening the top of the cage and depositing him in with the extra Blaine had acquired that morning. “How are we going to explain this?”

Kurt shook his head, leaning over the hamster cage. "They aren’t going to - eat each other, overnight, are they?“

Blaine’s eyes got wide. "Oh god Kurt. I hope not.”


	9. Indecent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

“Those pants are indecent Blaine. I can practically see your foreskin.”

Blaine twisted around to look at his backside in the changing room mirror. “You think so? I think they make my butt look great.”

“You’re fishing. Your butt always looks great.” Kurt was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the changing room looking thoughtfully at his best friend’s behind. Maybe someday. “Can you bend over? Or move at all?”

“I think there’s some stretch in them.” Blaine wiggled his butt in Kurt’s direction and Kurt laughed. He sat on his hands to keep from reaching out and touching him. “They’re not going to dress-code me for tight pants.”

“So buy them if you want,” Kurt said, standing up and brushing invisible crumbs off his pants. They were easily as tight as the ones Blaine was trying on. “But we need to get home if we’re going to have time for you to help me re-dye my hair.”


	10. Jumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?
> 
> Rated G for now. Rating may change

Read the first part

“Have you ever considered a really deep turquoise instead of the pink? It would bring out your eyes.” Shit. He didn’t really just say that.

Kurt tilted his head and looked at him like a turnip had sprouted out of his forehead. “It would bring out my eyes?”

This wasn’t a good idea. Kurt was too close, and he had his hands in Kurt’s hair, and all he could smell was Kurt, even over the heavy chemical smell of the dye. Words were all jumbled inside Blaine’s head. Kurt was his friend, but he didn’t like him like that. “Pink, I mean. Pink is good.” With the back of his hand Blaine pushed his glasses back on his nose.

“Blaine? Are you okay?” Kurt lifted a hand to Blaine’s waist. Notokaynotokaynotokaysonotokay.

“Mmm hmm.” It sounded like a high-pitched whine in his head. Kurt squeezed his hip and rubbed his thumb in circles right inside Blaine’s hip. In about two seconds Kurt would notice his inconvenient boner and freak out and he had to get away right now. He thinks he mumbled that he’d be right back before pulling the protective gloves off his hand and dropping them in the trash, then running out of the bathroom.

Kurt found him, sitting on the edge of Kurt’s bed, pulling on his gelled curls with both hands until they stuck out form his scalp.

“Blaine, what happened?” He couldn’t look at him, but he sounded concerned, not angry.

Blaine just hugged himself, shaking his head as he stared at the floor.

“I should,” he started, but it came out a croak. He cleared his throat. “I should go, I think.”

Kurt put a hand on his knee, stopping him from standing. “Yours are amber, like maple syrup fused with sunlight. And sometimes, there are these gold flecks like glitter. And when you wear that horrible emerald green polo shirt there’s a green ring around them, and I can’t look away.”

Blaine shuddered an exhale.

“Please don’t leave.”


	11. Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

“Kuurt!” Blaine gasped, jerking backward. “Too hard!”

“God Blaine, how can you be so sensitive already? I just started.”

“You’re being a little rough. I don’t know why you’re so impatient.”

Kurt chuckled. “I thought you liked it rough baby.”

“Nnng,” Blaine grunted. “Not like that.” He gripped Kurt’s hips tight. “Maybe I should pull yours.”

“If you sit still like a good boy and let me finish I might let you.”

“You love my kinks.”

Kurt pressed a slow kiss to Blaine’s mouth. “I do. Now let me finish cutting your hair so I can show you exactly how much.”


	12. Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

This one got away from me, and could probably use a massive edit. But here we go, warts and all.

“Mercedes!” Kurt hissed as he pulled her into the kitchen. “What is Blaine doing here?”

She shot him a confused (and possibly judgmental) look. “What do you mean?”

“I thought this was a girls-night.”

She smirked. “You’re here.”

“Yes, very funny.” Kurt folded his arms across his chest in a hoped for act of defiance. “That’s hardly the same thing.”

“What? You’re the only gay boy at McKinley who gets to share a mud mask with Rachel Berry and a sleepover with the girls? He was sitting there when I invited Brittany, and when I told him what we were doing he asked if he could come too.” She gestured to the rest of the kitchen with the bag of microwave popcorn she was about to open. “Is that a problem?”

Kurt huffed, hugging himself. He didn’t want it to be, but he’d been harboring a pretty serious crush on Blaine since Blaine had transferred to McKinley three months earlier. He hadn’t mentioned it to Mercedes, hoping to save him from the inevitable humiliation when his feelings weren’t returned. It wasn’t Mercedes’ fault. “I guess not,” he said. He’d just pretend it was like any other sleepover. “I’ll help you with the snacks. What goes downstairs?”

**

And for the most part, it was like any other sleepover. They didn’t spend as much time as they normally would complaining about the boys, since Blaine was close to Sam and Mike, and friendly with the other guys, but he happily participated in the group mani/pedi – letting Britt paint his toenails while he gave Mercedes a thorough manicure. And he was impressively up to date on both reality television and celebrity gossip, earning a round of mocking applause from the group.

The sleeping part of sleepovers at Mercedes took place on floor of the downstairs den, and it was nearly 2am when they rolled out their sleeping bags on the floor and changed into pajamas. They were tired, but no one ever wanted to be the first one to give in to sleep, so they sat in a circle on the sleeping bags. Kurt bit his lip and hugged a pillow into his lap when Blaine plopped down on the floor next to him.

“Is this the scary story part of the evening?” Blaine asked, grinning.

The girls all made non-committal noises. “Kurt doesn’t like scary stories,” Mercedes explained. Kurt glared at her. Blaine bumped his knee against Kurt’s. “Aw, why not? I thought that was supposed to be a sleepover staple?”

Kurt hugged his pillow tighter. “I usually find real life to be scary enough,” he said. A little more primly than he ‘d meant to. Why couldn’t he just be normal around him? But he didn’t want to be the cause of anyone not having fun tonight. The whole night had already gone better than he’d expected. “But go ahead. I’ll survive one night of scary stories.”

Blaine leaned into Kurt’s personal space, and Kurt had to fight not to sway into him. He smelled good.

“Interesting choice of words Kurt.”

Kurt was too distracted by Blaine to understand what he was saying. “Huh?”

Blaine put a hand on Kurt’s knee. “Survive one night? Good one.” He grinned.

Kurt blinked at him, wondering what he was supposed to say with Blaine’s hand on his kany offered to start.

“Ok.” Kurt turned to Britt. “But no tales of hook-handed murderers, OK?” 

Everybody laughed, and Blaine moved his hand off Kurt’s knee, but not before dragging it all the way down Kurt’s thigh. If anyone had been looking at him they’d have seen his eyes go as big and round as salad plates, but as it was everyone was getting comfortable for the storytelling so no one noticed. Kurt risked a look at Blaine just before Mercedes turned off the overhead lights. Blaine was looking straight ahead at Brittany, but Kurt could see a deep blush that ran from his cheekbone all the way down his neck.

Kurt was almost too distracted by the idea that he could make Blaine Anderson blush to even hear what Brittany was saying.

“So you guys all know about the legend of Bloody Mary, right?”

“You mean Mary Tudor? Queen of England?” Kurt asked. The girls all laughed. 

“Of course that’s the first thing you would think of Kurt,” Rachel said.

“No, I do not mean any weird fake queens you may know of Kurt,” Brittany went on. “I’m talking about Mary Worth. She was a witch who practiced the black arts right here in Ohio in the 1700’s. She would kidnap peoples’ babies on the full moon and use them as sacrifices to keep her powers. She was captured and executed at the site where the Ohio State Penitentiary is now. She still haunts the prison there and they have to keep the prisoners locked up on the full moon so they don’t go crazy and start sacrificing babies. “She’s trapped in the prison, but you can summon her by using her magic and repeating her name three times while looking in a mirror. If you do it right she’ll appear in the mirror and rip your face off.”

Mercedes and Rachel were giggling, but Kurt just stared at Brittany. “Why on earth would anybody want to do that?”

“Do what?” Brittany asked.

“Summon a crazy witch through a mirror to rip your face off? That’s insane!” Kurt jumped when a sort hand landed on his shoulder.

Blaine leaned into his space, voice low. “It’s just a stupid story.”

“I know it’s just a stupid story Blaine, I’m not an id-” he was interrupted by a loud knock on one of the basement windows, and they all screamed. Kurt jumped back and landed in Blaine’s lap. Blaine’s arms wrapped around Kurt for a brief second, before Kurt realized what was happening and he pushed him away, glaring at Blaine. He didn’t miss the look on Blaine’s face – a mixture of hurt and apology.

Whatever was outside knocked again, only this time Mercedes and Brittany got up to look out the windows.

“Santana!” Britt yelped and ran to the window. “What are you doing here? When I asked you if you wanted to come you said you didn’t want to hang with a bunch of losers outside of school if you had to hang out with them inside.”

“Yeah, well, I got bored,” she whispered through the window. “Let me in Britt, there was a cop car out here and I don’t want to get taken in for busting curfew.”

Kurt wasn’t in the mood for Santana yet, so in the commotion he snuck upstairs to the kitchen. He was there leaning against the sink when Blaine joined him.

“Are you mad,” Blaine asked. The ‘at me’ hung in the air between them.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing?”

“What am I-”

“What’s with the touching? Did you and Britt cook this up so you could ‘protect me’ form the scary story?”

Blaine put his hands up in front of him, as both a placating gesture and to stop Kurt. “No, oh god no. I would never-”

“Because I may hang out with the girls Blaine, but I do not need anyone to protect me, and neither do they, by the way, and-”

“Oh, no. No, Kurt, I would never-”

“Then what Blaine. What are you doing here?” Kurt dropped his arms to his sides.

“I,” he started. Kurt stared at him, waiting. “I thought it would be fun. I like you guys and I wanted to hang out with you.” He swallowed. “And when Mercedes said that you were going to be here I really wanted to come, because I keep trying to figure out how to spend time with you, but you don’t go to any of the football games, or any of the other after school clubs except for glee club, and it sounded like it would be fun.” Blaine shrugged and let his arms drop. “And you would be here,” he said again, lamely.

“You want to spend time with me?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you ask me? To spend time with you.”

Blaine rubbed his hands over his face, but took a step closer to Kurt. “You’re kind of – intimidating – I didn’t know what you would say. I thought if maybe we spent some time together I’d be able to tell if you, you know, liked me. Or not.” Now Blaine was hugging himself.

“So ask me.” Blaine looked up at him.

“What?”

“Ask. Me.”

Blaine stood up straighter, gripping the counter with one hand. “Oh. OK. Um, Kurt, would you like to maybe, hang out with me some time?”

Kurt held Blaine’s gaze, and let himself relax enough to realize that Blaine might be asking him out. Blaine. Adorable charming Blaine Anderson. “Okay.”

“Okay? Really?” Blaine grinned, and Kurt couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yes,” Kurt laughed. “But Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s almost 3:30 in the morning. Can we go downstairs and try to get some sleep?”

“Yes. And Kurt,” he said, heading down the stairs.

“Yes Blaine?”

“Slumber parties don’t seem to involve a lot of slumber.”


	13. Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

Blaine didn’t normally hang around in the dorm bathrooms long after his shower, but this was the third time this week he was in the showers with the Mystery Singer.

_“…two drifters, off to see the world, there’s such a lot of world to see…”_

And he really wanted to know who he was.

_“…we’re after the same rainbow’s end…”_

Blaine assumed it was a he. It had sounded like a guy before, and they were in the boys showers, but today he was hitting notes Blaine had never heard a guy hit.

_“…waiting, round the bend…”_

So it wasn’t actually creepy if he stopped to floss his teeth,

_“…my huckleberry friend…”_

or spent an extra few minutes trimming a stray body hair here or there,

_“…Moon River, and me”_

or stared in the mirror at the reflection of the very hot guy who stepped out of the shower wearing just a towel around his waist. Blaine swallowed. It was totally normal, right?


	14. Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?
> 
>  
> 
> Read the first part here

Kurt stepped out of the shower into warm hazel eyes, at least until the eyes looked away and went back to, well, whatever their owner was doing at the bathroom sink. Was he plucking his eyebrows? He blinked at himself in the mirror, willing himself not to look, pretty sure it was the cute guy from down the hall. Kurt had seen him play piano in the 4th floor lounge last week. Room 242.

“Did you say something?”

In the mirror Kurt’s eyes went wide. Had he said that out loud?

“Room 242. That’s my room number,” Hazel Eyes continued.

Kurt blushed, flush down to his collarbone. The real downside to embarrassing yourself in the shower was getting to watch it unfold from every angle.

“I’m sorry. I heard you play last week. In the lounge. You were really good.”

Hazel Eyes’ face scrunched up adorably, a pink tinge rising on his cheeks. “Thanks. I was just messing around. I heard you singing, um, just now. You’re amazing.” He stared a beat too long, ducking his head with a sigh when another guy came in and set up at an empty sink. He quickly tucked his things into his bag, mumbling a quick ‘see you later’ as he walked past Kurt and out of the

Kurt stared at his mirror image and shook his head. “Smooth Hummel.”


	15. Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

This is a prequel to this and this.

 

Blaine was sitting in the waiting room of the principal’s office when Kurt Hummel yanked the door open and stormed past him. He couldn’t help but stare, Kurt’s pink hair and crisp leather jacket and eyes as deep as he ocean were nearly all his hormones would let him think about. Blaine was wondering what his shoulders might look like underneath that jacket when Kurt stopped short and turned to glare at Blaine.

“Can I help you?” he all but snarled.

Blaine shook his head, looking at the floor. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, looking down at his neatly pressed pants and his suspenders. He tugged at his bow tie.

“Mr. Hummel stop where you are!” Principal Figgins shouted while stepping from behind his desk. “I believe I told you to wait while I spoke with Mr. Anderson.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and moved to sit in the spot that Blaine had vacated when Figgins called his name. But since Blaine hadn’t stepped away yet Kurt’s whole body rubbed against him as he sat. Blaine bit back a whimper. 

“Mr. Anderson, please. Come in.” Figgins smile reminded him of a Halloween pumpkin. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you down here, Mr. Anderson.”

Blaine nodded. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Figgins said. “The opposite, actually. Do you know Kurt Hummel?”

Know him? I’m in love with him. Even though he wouldn’t get closer to me than ten feet unless you held a gun to his head, and even then Blaine wasn’t sure. He cleared his throat. “Um, I know of him. We aren’t friends or anything.”

“I should hope not, Mr. Anderson. I only wondered if you knew him. It seems that Kurt is failing his English Literature class, and his father has asked that I arrange some tutoring for him.”

Blaine sat quietly. He hoped this wasn’t going where he thought it was going. 

“I can offer you two hours of extra curricular credit, and it will be good for your college applications.” Figgins grinned the pumpkin smile.

Blaine twisted around to look at Kurt, who had stretched all the way out on the tiny couch, his feet hanging over the end. Blaine thought he looked like he was asleep. It was really the last thing he wanted to do, spend time with McKinley delinquent Kurt Hummel. He may have an all consuming crush on him, but he couldn’t imagine that Kurt would be very excited about this. Maybe Kurt would be enough of a jerk that he’d get over his crush. He turned back to Figgins. “Sure.”

“Excellent.” Figgins slapped his hands on the desk, rising and going to open the door for what seemed like the 6th time since Blaine arrived in the office. “Hummel! In here please!”

Kurt rolled off the couch and made his way in, sitting in the armchair next to Blaine.

“Mr. Hummel, do you know Mr. Anderson?” Kurt ignored Blaine completely. “Nope.”

Figgins scowled at him. “Well now you do. Mr. Anderson will be tutoring you in English Lit this semester. You will meet two days a week after school in a room to be determined.”

Blaine sat up straight as Kurt sucked a long breath in through his nose. “Is that all?” Figgins nodded, and Kurt got up without a word and walked out of the office and disappeared into the hallway. Figgins dismissed Blaine with a grim “Good luck, Mr. Anderson.”

When Blaine stepped into the hall he was surprised to see Kurt standing there, leaning against with one booted foot holding him up.

“Well Grandpa,” he said, looking Blaine up and down. “Looks like I’ll see you at three.”


	16. Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

“What can I get you?”

Kurt held up two fingers. He’d never seen a New York street hot dog vendor so young. Or attractive. “Mustard, please?”

He nodded and slapped two steaming Sabrett’s into buns with the practiced ease of a veteran cart jockey, handing them to Kurt after he squirted the mustard on.

“Five for both.”

Kurt shrugged himself out of staring. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” He fished in his pocket for a neatly folded bill, trading it for his lunch. “You don’t usually see younger guys doing the hot dog cart thing.”

He winked at Kurt. “How do you know it isn’t my life’s passion to sell hot dogs to cute guys?”


	17. Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi-chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the tease of an arranged marriage au I've had in my head. This may become something later.

Blaine fidgeted on his seat in the waiting room. He tugged at the bow tie around his throat. He had been excited to put it on in the morning, but now it just felt like it was strangling him. He knew that sixteen was the accepted age to marry, but he didn’t feel like he was ready for it. He had so many questions.

Like how could they know when he was born who he would want to marry? What if he had liked girls instead? And what if they didn’t like each other? Or he was mean? What if they weren’t attracted to each other? He wondered if his mother had even looked into the match. Some people didn’t, they wanted to be surprised, or they were just resigned to it, but Blaine wished he knew anything about the boy they were going to meet.

“Sit still Blaine,” his mother hissed a whisper. “I swear you have springs in your legs.” She shook her head disapprovingly.

Blaine inhaled. “What if he doesn’t like me mom?” He bit at his thumbnail. “Don’t be silly Blaine. Of course he’ll like you.” She swatted his hand away form his mouth, and Blaine frowned. “Although I’m sure he’ll like you better if you get rid of a few of these nervous habits.” He slumped in his chair.

He was hugging himself to keep still when an older woman with a state-issued grey blazer stepped out through a door marked ‘private’ and asked Blaine to join her. Parents weren’t allowed at the first meeting, so he went in alone.

He followed the woman down several non-descript hallways, until she stopped at a door with two handwritten names slipped into a frame that hung on it. One of the names was his – ‘Blaine Anderson.’ He read the other name, and swallowed. ‘Kurt Hummel.’ He knew Kurt Hummel, sort of. They went to the same high school, but Kurt was a year ahead, and they didn’t have any after school clubs together.

He was going to marry Kurt Hummel?


	18. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Running a little behind, but should catch up by tomorrow, I hope!

“Don’t make me regret this.” 

“I won’t. You won’t. I mean, you know I’ve always wanted this for us. All of us.” Sam smiled big. “Like a male bonding experience.”

“Uh huh.” Where was Blaine? “Blaine honey, come on. Don’t get shy on me now!”

“And Blaine is really excited, too. He thought you’d never agree to it."

“He’s not the only one,” Kurt huffed. “I’m still not sure why I did.”

“I’m not backing out, I, unh,” Kurt could hear him grunting in the bedroom. “I need to finish getting ready.”

Kurt adjusted the belt he was wearing, trying to ignore the awkward tension that was radiating off Sam.

“Ta-da!” Blaine finally stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in full storm trooper costume, helmet under his arm. Kurt had to admit Blaine looked adorable. “You guys look great! Sam, you’re going to be the best Han Solo there!” Blaine was so happy, Kurt had to admit it would probably be worth it. “Come on, I don’t want to be late.”

As they were walking to the theater, Blaine tugged Kurt against him. “You make a great Luke, Kurt. I knew you would.”

“I don’t know how I feel about this baggy tunic, but I am kind of liking the boots. And you look pretty cute yourself,” Kurt kissed his hair. “And gel-free tonight, I see.”

Blaine ruffled his own hair, pink coloring his cheeks. “Maybe, later, we could, um, not take our costumes off right away when we get home.”

“You may have to show me exactly what I can do with my light saber,” Kurt giggled.

Sam groaned ahead of them. “Oh my god guys, I am standing right here.”


	19. Shift & Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed a day so here are Klaine Advent 19 & 20 together.

Part one part two part three originally posted out of order, but I do think this will turn into a longer verse later.

 

Blaine coughed, clearing his throat. “That’s awfully poetic for a self-described juvenile delinquent.”

Kurt felt the air in the room shift. Blaine’s shoulders relaxed, but he still wouldn’t look at him.

“I think I said I hated school, I didn’t say I was stupid.” Kurt lifted his hand, but Blaine flinched, and hugged himself tighter, so he didn’t reach for him. He wanted to though.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said…” He waved a few fingers in the air, but didn’t go on.

Kurt wanted to tell him it was okay, that he didn’t have to be embarrassed. He wanted to kiss him for the first time. For both of them. He didn’t. He spoke instead.

“I see you, too.” Kurt stood, pacing a circle in the room. “Why would you want me?”

Blaine looked at him then. Eyes wide and full of disbelief. “You’re nice to me. You’re funny.” He swallowed and looked away, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “And you’re hot as hell.”

Kurt laughed then. “How would you know? Grandpa.”

Blaine cracked a smile at that, pointing to Kurt’s hair. “It’s probably time to rinse that out. Who knows what color it is at this point.”

Blaine followed him into the bathroom. Kurt sat and Blaine pulled off foil wrap and plastic and strips of cotton around the dyed lock. “Looks good. Pink.”

Kurt stood up, checking Blaine’s work in the bathroom mirror. Blaine stood next to him, blushing. He wanted to tell him he did a nice job. He didn’t. “Can I kiss you?”

Kurt could feel Blaine’s body sway just a little next to him. Blaine nodded. “But you don’t have to.”

“Oh my god, Blaine.” Kurt turned, gripping Blaine’s shoulders and pressing their lips together. It was dry, and a little rough, and Blaine squeaked when he pulled away. “Blaine, I-” Blaine licked his lips, surging up to kiss him again, grasping at Kurt’s shirt, trying to bring them closer. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine’s shoulders, and when they broke apart again he didn’t let go. The corner of Blaine’s mouth was quirked up, almost a challenge.

Before Kurt could suggest that they move somewhere more comfortable than the bathroom sink and continue making out, they were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming and Kurt’s dad shouting up the stairs.

“Kurt! You home?”


	20. Underneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi-chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Warnings for homophobic slurs in this chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> This is the start of something I have definite plans to continue on in the new year.

**Prologue**

Blaine Anderson didn’t like to think about how things had gotten so bad. He didn’t like to think about it because there wasn’t anything to be done. He’d come to live with his Aunt Carole and Uncle Burt in the middle of nowhere Ohio after his parents had died, and from the looks of things, he’d be stuck here forever.

But he didn’t know anything about tractors, or farm equipment, so he wasn’t much help at the Hummel’s garage, and he didn’t know anything about farms or what people did on them, so he wasn’t much help on his aunt and uncle’s small farm either. And Carole and Burt weren’t really his aunt and uncle anyway; Carole was a really distant cousin of his mother, and Burt and Carole were the only family that would take Blaine in when he had nowhere else to go. Everywhere he went here he felt like he was a piece of a puzzle that had been put away in the wrong box. The feeling that he could disappear and no one would notice weighed on him constantly. But there was nowhere to go.

He did try to fit in. No one could say that he didn’t try. Today he was at the garage, trying to be helpful and stay out of the way at the same time. He cleaned up after the other mechanics, and tried to get them to teach him things about the engines and combines and other things he couldn’t remember the names of, but nothing ever stuck.

He had tried to be friends with Burt’s son, Kurt, hoping he could help him adjust to living in a new place, hoping that they might be able to be friends. They were around the same age, and Kurt had the prettiest blue eyes Blaine had ever seen, and a mechanic’s muscled arms, and he could fix anything that anyone brought into the garage. He didn’t seem to have a lot of friends either, but Kurt barely spoke to him when he first arrived, and it hadn’t got much better after that. He caught Kurt staring at him a lot, looking at him like Blaine had stolen the last slice of cake right off his plate, but he snapped at Blaine every time he asked a question about anything, not just at the garage. So most of the time Blaine only watched Kurt work.

Today he was sitting on one of the tool benches in the back, watching Kurt crawl into the engine of a tractor that had wheels as high as Blaine was tall. He tried not to stare at the way Kurt’s dirty coveralls stretched over his backside as his torso disappeared into the tractor, because Kurt would not appreciate it and would probably punch him in the mouth if he caught him, but Blaine had long ago accepted this fact of his life along with all the others. 

“Hey Blaine,” Burt called to him.

Blaine jumped at the sound, knocking a box filled with tools off the top of the bench. The crash echoed through the garage until everyone was looking at him. Everyone but Kurt, he just kept working.

“Oh my god.” Blaine scrambled off the bench and frantically picked up the assortment of wrenches and other things Blaine couldn’t identify. “I wasn’t, I mean I just,” he put the toolbox back where it belonged. “I-”

“It’s OK Blaine,” Burt said, not unkindly, but his attempted smile was more of a grimace. “Carole just called and asked if maybe you could go into town and pick up a few things for her from the grocer. She already called it in, so all you have to do is pick it up. They’ll put it on our monthly bill.”

Blaine hated going to the grocery. Miss Sue Sylvester, who owned the store, was mean to everyone, and the boys who worked for her were worse. Just last week they had chased him almost a mile on his bike before they’d got bored turned around. Blaine had cried the entire rest of the way home, as much out of anger as fear, and then hid in the crawlspace underneath the house until he could face the people he was supposed to be able to call family. Blaine didn’t want to think about what would have happened if the boys had caught him before he’d got to the house, where there were no other people around.

But he forced a smile, and said, “Sure, Burt. No problem.”

Blaine’s worst fears were realized when he rode his bike up to the front of the grocer and David Karofsky was outside sweeping the wraparound porch.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Plain Blanderson.” He leaned on his broom in a way he probably thought was menacing. Blaine glanced at him but tried to ignore him as he scooted past and through the door, hoping pretty much anyone was inside and that things wouldn’t escalate. Karofsky followed. “Don’t ignore me fag,” Karofsky hissed, shoving at Blaine’s shoulder until he stumbled. Blaine never could figure out how he knew.

“Get back to work David!” He never thought he would be happy to see Miss Sylvester, but in that moment Blaine wanted to hug her. “There’s a huge storm coming and you need to bring in all the loose furniture, and tie down what won’t fit.” As an afterthought she added, “And get that worthless Azimio out of the cellar to help you.”

Blaine needed to get out of there, and fast. Azimio was bad, Karofsky was worse, but together he didn’t stand a chance. At least Puckerman wasn’t with them this time.

“Excuse me Miss Sylvester,” he said, finally getting her attention.

“Oh. You. What do you want?” She scowled at him.

Blaine stifled a sigh. “I need to pick up Carole Hummel’s order, please.”

“Do you have a name, munchkin?”

Blaine had told her his name on at least a dozen occasions. “Uh, yes, Blaine Ander-”

“Never mind, I don’t care,” she muttered and turned around. She was taking forever, checking every bag and box behind the counter. Blaine just wanted to get home as quickly as possible, but getting caught in a storm wasn’t nearly as worrying as being caught by Karofsky.

Miss Sylvester finally found the correct package, and set it down in front of Blaine on the counter next to a slip with his Aunt Carole’s name on it. “I just need you to sign for it.” Blaine took the pen and wrote his name at the bottom of the slip.

“The storm seems to have come out of nowhere,” he said. “Do they know how bad it’s supposed to be?”

Sue Sylvester looked at him as if she were only just noticing him for the first time, and the force of it pushed him back a step. “Bad,” she said, pointing her chin at him. “You should go while you have the chance.”

Blaine shuddered as a nameless lick of terror wound up his spine, and he turned and rushed out of the store without another word. There was no one outside waiting for Blaine, so he put the package snugly into the basket on his bike, kicked up the kickstand and started pedaling.

He hadn’t noticed them on his way to the store, but now that he was on his way home he could see low black clouds not as far in the distance as he would like. Blaine hadn’t been in Ohio long, but he knew what they meant. Twister. And he did not want to be out in it. He was so busy watching the clouds that he didn’t see the boys, and when they ran at him he swerved, his bike skidding across the dirt road, Aunt Carole’s groceries spilling out everywhere.

Blaine grimaced as they stood over him. He banged his head hard on the ground, his left knee was bloody all the way to his ankle. He looked up at Karofsky and Azimio, unable to stop the tears from running down his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” He shouted at them. He hadn’t seen anyone, but maybe someone would see or hear him out there and help. “What did I ever do to you?”

Azimio kicked him in the back of his leg as Karofsky leaned over him, breathing hard. Blaine curled into himself, a futile attempt at self-preservation. “You exist,” Karofsky spat into his face. “And I don’t like it.” He reared back for another kick, but before it landed bells started clanging in the town center, bells that meant a twister was coming so fast you’d better already be underground.

“Hey man.” Azimio grabbed Karofsky by the arm and pointing toward the storm. “We have to get out of here before that gets bigger.”

“Yeah okay.” Karofsky chuckled then spat at Blaine, just missing his face. “Enjoy the weather, fag.” Then both boys were gone, walking quickly, then running toward the center of town.

Blaine pushed himself up off the ground, tears streaking down his face. His head hurt, and the blood on his leg was sticky and drying, but he didn’t think anything was broken. Carole’s groceries were everywhere; he’d just have to tell them all what happened this time. He hoped they wouldn’t be mad. Blaine let out a sob at the thought that anyone would have to know. They’d throw him out for good then. He didn’t have time to worry about that now, he needed to get home before the twister hit.

He could see the twister barreling toward him as he reached the edge of the Hummel’s farm. They were sure to all be in the shelter by now. Maybe if he sprinted he could make it.

Dropping his bike at the storm drain he took off across the wide yard, slow and limping but ignoring he pain in his knee. The wind by now was whipping everything in the yard, the sound of the oncoming twister filling his head, and he had to duck more than once to keep from being hit by siding that had ripped off the Hummel’s rickety storage shed. 

He didn’t see what hit him from behind, before everything went black.


	21. Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?
> 
> This chapter rated M.

“Blaine, I know I want to be an actor, but this might be a little out of my comfort zone.”

“I have confidence in you Kurt, you’re fearless,” Blaine called from the bedroom. “You remember the script, right?”

“My god, the script. You should stick to writing songs honey,” Kurt mumbled to himself. “Yes sweetheart, I’ve got it,” he called back.

“Okay, I’m coming out now, if you’re ready?”

“The things I do.” He sighed. “I’m ready!” Kurt crouched on the arm of the couch seconds before Blaine burst from their bedroom.

“I’m Nightbird, defender of all that’s right. Stop thief, and identify yourself!” Blaine threw up his hand in a ‘stop’ gesture, faltering when he finally noticed Kurt.

Kurt smirked, stretching one leg out along the back of their couch with the other still bent beneath him. Blaine had told him he could make his own costume, and not one to miss an opportunity to make a statement, he’d gone with super tight black boxer briefs, a slim cut black t-shirt that was too snug for public wear since he’d started working out in earnest, and a knee high pair of black patent leather platform boots. He’d topped it off with cat ears and a tail leftover from a long ago Halloween just to keep it interesting.

“It is I, the Porcelain Pussycat! I swore a vow years ago that you would never take me alive, Nightbird, and I’m not about to let it happen now!” Kurt stood and walked across the back of the couch, eyes trained on Blaine the whole time while praying he wouldn’t fall off. Blaine’s eyes never left him, and Kurt could see his breathing speed up. He took a long step off the couch and onto the coffee table, creeping closer to Blaine, who seemed to gather his wits slightly.

“I can’t let you escape this time. It’s time you paid for your life of crime.” Kurt could tell from the tremor in Blaine’s voice that he was close to breaking. 

“Well, Nightbird.” Kurt dropped to his knees and crawled across the table, and when he reached the end he stretched his neck as far as he could, close to Blaine’s face, and whispered, “Maybe you should try to rehabilitate me.”

Blaine sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s not in the script,” he whispered back.

Kurt shook his head, biting his lower lip. “I’m going off script.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Blaine. “Am I in trouble, Nightbird?”

Blaine nodded and brought his gloved hands to Kurt’s face, pulling him close. “I think I’m going to have to bring you in.” Kurt squeaked when Blaine grabbed him around the waist with both arms and hoisted him over his shoulder. Blaine was deceptively strong.

He was laughing by the time Blaine dropped him on the bed and crawled over him, knees straddling at Kurt’s hips, hands planted on the bed on either side of his head.

Kurt was practically howling now. “Oh Nightbird! I’ll do anything to be good,” he begged.

Blaine pressed his hips to Kurt’s, grinding against him. “I don’t believe you, Pussycat. I think you need to convince me.” His eyes were dark as they raked over Kurt squirming underneath him. “You should start by sucking my cock.”

Kurt was breathing hard now, and he nodded pushing Blaine’s hips away from his as he wriggled down the bed. He struggled a moment before he pulling Blaine’s hard, fat cock free from his tight leggings. “Just the head.” Blaine growled, moving a hand to hold Kurt’s head firm as he sucked, his tongue lashing wet across the spongy flesh.

Blaine was trying hard not to fuck into his mouth, Kurt could tell, so he took advantage, drawing him in as far as he could, before going back to sucking the tip just barely into his mouth. But he was almost covered completely by Blaine’s cape, and had to keep stopping to pull air into his lungs. Blaine seemed to notice, stopping him with a tug to his shoulder. Once his head was back on the pillow, he tugged at Kurt’s briefs. “Off,” he ordered, reaching for the lube on the bedside table while Kurt pulled the briefs off over his boots. Neither of them seemed eager to take off more costume than was completely necessary.

Kurt raised his eyebrows in a question, and when Blaine nodded Kurt pulled one naked, boot-covered leg to his chest before raising it up and resting it on Blaine’s shoulder. He squirted lube onto his fingers and reached between his cheeks, stretching himself to what he liked while Blaine watched above him, not breaking eye contact even when Kurt poured more lube in his hand and slicked it over Blaine’s cock. When Blaine leaned back to push his leggings further down Kurt went to stop him. “Leave the costume on.”

Blaine stopped when the waistband slipped below his ass, his balls finally free from the snug elastic. “I plan to.”

Kurt grinned, guiding Blaine where he wanted him until Blaine pushed in, waiting only a moment for Kurt to adjust. Kurt slung one leg wide and practically wrapped the other around Blaine’s neck and Blaine fucked into him fast and steady, the rough fabric of Blaine’s costume rubbing against his ass and thighs. This wasn’t going to take long. Blaine leaned down to finally kiss him, his Nightbird cape bunching up around his shoulders and spilling over, covering Kurt. Kurt groaned.

“Touch yourself Kurt, please.” He did. “Oh, oh, Kurt, I’m gonna come.” And he did, grinding into Kurt while he fisted himself until thick white come dribbled over his fingers.

Later, sort of cleaned up and still half in their costumes, Blaine pulled Kurt up against his chest.

“So, do you feel rehabilitated?”

Kurt slid his still booted leg between Blaine’s calves. “I don’t.” Blaine lifted his head to look at him. “I think we’re going to need to do that again a few times before it sticks.”


	22. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

I have no idea where this came from. And I so meant it to be shorter

Most of the time, Blaine didn’t miss being part of a family. He’d put that all behind him. He had a room, such as it was, and he could find people who would hire him to do odd jobs, despite his age, and he got by, even in winter.

But he couldn’t fight the memories at Christmas, even though he’d worked hard to do just that. Sometimes he’d wish that he could go back. Make different decisions. But the final nail had been over a choice that he couldn’t make, and he knew it wouldn’t have mattered if everything else had been different.

Last year he had swallowed his pride and wandered into Lima’s lone soup kitchen on Christmas Eve, and while he’d been too nervous and embarrassed to talk to anyone (other than to say thank you, of course) it had made the season feel less lonely. And he appreciated that.So this year he’d volunteered to help in the kitchen. He couldn’t cook, but he could carry things and clean up, and he found he didn’t mind being with so many people when everyone had a job they were supposed to be doing. No one here thought any less of him, just because of something he couldn’t change.

Tonight he had smiled watching little kids unwrap the donated gifts, he’d laughed in the kitchen with the other volunteers, and he’d eaten a meal that included turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing and carrots, and they’d let him go back for seconds. It was as close as Blaine had been to any sort of Christmas spirit in almost four years.

By eleven o’clock, when everyone who had homes was leaving to go to them, Blaine was finishing his clean up duties taking the trash out to the back alley. And that’s where he saw him, hiding behind the dumpster. The boy couldn’t have been any older than Blaine. Blaine could see under the street lamp that he had pink streaked hair, a few piercings, and he was wearing a jean jacket that would not protect him from the snow that had been or the snow that was coming.

“Hey,” Blaine said. “Are you alright?” The boy ducked behind the dumpster. “It’s okay, if you need food, we have some inside. Or you can just come inside. You don’t look like you’re dressed for the weather. I’m sure there’s an extra coat or something you can have.” The boy didn’t say anything, but his eyes darted between Blaine and the ground. “My name’s Blaine. You should come in.” Blaine gestured toward the back door of the kitchen, propped open with a cinder block.

“Hey Blaine!” It was Mike, the kitchen supervisor. “It’s freezing in here. Is everything OK?”

“I’ll be right in,” Blaine called back. He turned back to the boy. “Come on. You can just eat and leave if that’s what you want. Or they have someplace you can sleep if you need to. Do you have someplace to stay?”

The boy finally looked at Blaine, shaking his head before looking back at the ground.

“Mike,” Blaine started as he walked into the back room. “There’s a kid outside, I think he needs some help, but he isn’t saying anything.” Blaine shrugged. “Maybe you can get him to come in and eat?”

Mike looked up, past Blaine, so Blaine turned. The boy had followed him in, and was standing just inside the door.

“I’m Mike,” Mike stuck out his hand. The boy took it.

“Kurt.” He swallowed, and tried to smile, but he still looked frightened. Now that he was inside Blaine could see that he had warm brown hair, streaked with pink, at least six hoops through one ear and a piercing in his eyebrow. His ears were pink from the cold, and a little pointed, like an elf. Blaine stifled a laugh. He was cute.

“Blaine, why don’t you take Kurt out in the dining room and get him settled, I’ll put together a plate and bring it out.”

Blaine thanked Mike, then took Kurt to the coat closet, so he could pick out something warmer than he had, then he took Kurt to the dining room where he could sit. Blaine wanted to ask questions, try to help, but he knew what it was like to not want to answer them. They sat without speaking for a few minutes, until Mike set a plate in front of Kurt. Kurt’s eyes got huge.

“This is too much. I could never eat all this.” Kurt stared at the plate.

“When was the last time you had a whole meal?” Mike asked.

Kurt looked like he was thinking about how to answer. “Probably about a week. I’ve eaten a little here and there.”

“Tell you what,” Mike offered. “Take the plate, eat what you want. If there’s any left Blaine can pack it up and you can take it with you. Or, if you need, you can sleep here in the common room tonight. We don’t have the facilities for long term residence, but we do have some sleepovers around the holidays or if it gets really cold.” Mike looked at Blaine. “Just let Blaine know what you need. He’ll take care of you.”

Kurt didn’t look at Blaine, but he nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

Blaine didn’t say anything, waiting while Kurt dug into his plate of food. Despite his protesting earlier, he ate most everything Mike had put in front of him.

“Can I get you anything else?” Blaine asked, once he’d finished. Kurt shrugged. “Do you have anyone? Anywhere to go?”

Kurt’s face clouded briefly, but this time he answered. “No. Just me.”

“Then you should definitely stay here. At least tonight. Someone can help you figure out where to go after.” Kurt looked terrified at this idea. “I mean if you want. Or you can go. Whatever you need. No one is going to ask any questions,” Blaine assured him.

Kurt’s mouth crinkled, it looked like it wanted to be a smile. “Other than you?”

Blaine laughed. “Well, okay.” He felt himself blush. “Other than me.”

“Do you have – anyone?” Kurt’s voice was sweet, melodic. Blaine wanted him to keep talking.

He shook his head. “Just me. I have a room. It isn’t much, but it’s home.” Blaine shrugged. The silence got awkward. “Do you want to stay here tonight? I can help set you up?” A worried look took over Kurt’s face.

Blaine decided to do the stupidest thing he could think of. “Look. I don’t want to be weird, and I don’t mean anything at all by this. But if you don’t want to stay here I understand.” He steadied himself. “I have a tiny, very uncomfortable couch in my room. You are welcome to sleep on it.” Kurt’s eyes got wider. “I don’t want anything from you. I’ve just – I’ve been where you’re at. I know it’s hard to know what’s safe. Or to accept help. I just want to help.”

Kurt said nothing for a minute, but did appear to be thinking about it.“I promise I’m not a weirdo.” Kurt smiled. “Well, not much of a weirdo.”

“Okay,” Kurt said softly. Blaine could feel his smile take over his face. This was more than he could have wished for.


	23. Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Klaine Advent this year I'm trying out an assortment of commonly used tropes, just to see what happens. Some stories may be multi chaptered, some may be jumping off points for larger fics in the future. Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to much to everyone for reading and liking and (hopefully) enjoying even if it was only here or there. Today is a continuation from yesterday’s entry. (Pun not intended, but appreciated anyway.)
> 
> Happy Holidays and Merry Everything!

Kurt blinked awake in a strange bed facing a wall he didn’t recognize. The only thing familiar was the disorientation. He’d known it every day for the past two years.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember (his memory hadn’t been reliable lately).

There had been food and warmth and a kind boy and a hot shower. A cup of tea on a hot plate. He willed his eyes open.

He was wearing clean clothes that didn’t quite fit, he was covered by a real blanket, had slept on a real pillow on a real mattress.

He rolled over and there was the boy, sleeping on a tiny fold out foam sofa, like ones he used to see in back-to-school photo spreads.

He’d had a kind face and an earnest, easy smile. He hadn’t asked for anything, he only offered. Kurt pushed up, twisting until he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. Blaine wriggled a little, rubbing his face as he woke.

“Merry Christmas Kurt,” he said, smiling, still kindly.

Yesterday hadn’t been a dream at all.


End file.
